


faraway memories (getting clearer)

by OceannanotOceania



Series: wonder if [1]
Category: VIXX
Genre: Alcohol, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, M/M, Model!Hongbin, Post-Break Up
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-16
Updated: 2017-06-16
Packaged: 2018-11-14 17:55:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,302
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11213229
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OceannanotOceania/pseuds/OceannanotOceania
Summary: Wonsik drunk-dials Hongbin three months after they breakup.





	faraway memories (getting clearer)

**Author's Note:**

> Okay so ngl this is heavily inspired by me watching an interview with Junhyung about Wonder If where he talks about the meaning of the single (if you haven't heard it pls listen to both songs, Too Much Love Kills Me & Wonder If). This is unbetaed and a bit longer than I expected but I hope y'all enjoy! ^^

The liquid is bitter, stinging as it slides down Wonsik’s throat, but the man pushes back the taste, knocking back the rest of the whiskey before slamming his glass down. Wonsik watches the smoke still faintly billowing from a cigarette that had just been put out- the last in the pack Wonsik kept on him- letting out a breath before grabbing the whiskey bottle and pouring another glass.

Wonsik used to hate whiskey. He used to hate any hard liquor, actually; it all was so bitter, too strong to consume more than a glass of. But, that changed when He came into his life. Hongbin had been such a source of inspiration for him. Everything about him was noteworthy to Wonsik, the man often finding himself writing nonsense lyrics about even the minutiae of Hongbin’s face. Wonsik had fallen so quickly after encountering the singer- well, wannabe singer was a better phrase.

It had been around 11pm when Wonsik met Hongbin six months ago. Wonsik’s eyes had first landed on the man when he’d walked into the bar, immediately noticing the pastel pink hair in a mess of muted greens and brown. Wonsik slid into the seat next to Hongbin, a faint smile on his lips as he introduced himself. He really hadn't been that smooth about it though, but in the end it was worth it, since each floundering mistake brought a dimple-ridden smile onto Hongbin’s face.

Hongbin had gone home with Wonsik that night, exchanging a few whiskey-laced kisses with Wonsik before backing away, slowly shaking his head. Wonsik had frowned, Hongbin replying that he never had sex drunk, but he’d be okay with staying the night. Wonsik could only accept that, trying to cool his head when he felt Hongbin curl up to Wonsik’s back, right arm looped around Wonsik’s waist, tracing idle patterns on his stomach.

It took another month before Wonsik and Hongbin finally had sex. Hongbin had come over to Wonsik’s cramped apartment, the pair talking for hours over their jobs, dreams, lost ambitions. Hongbin had mentioned wanting to be a singer, the dream quickly brushed aside when Hongbin had gotten his first big gig as a model. Wonsik’s eyes lit up at that, the man quickly promising that he could record songs with Hongbin if he was comfortable with that. Wonsik is fairly certain that they both talked about other things, but all of those memories were clouded over by vivid recollections of the first time they had sex- well, made love is a better word. That night had been such a culmination of emotions, a mess of images: Hongbin’s soft lips against his, teeth digging into Wonsik’s lower lip; the flush on Hongbin’s face as he sucked Wonsik off; the texture of Hongbin’s hair, thick, pink waves Wonsik carded clammy fingers through as he pushed off the want to thrust into the warmth of Hongbin’s mouth. Hongbin’s nails, tiny and blunt, had dug into Wonsik’s hips, holding the man down as he worked Wonsik to orgasm. Hongbin had been too thorough with Wonsik, leaving him a tired but blissful mess that could hardly focus on reciprocating for Hongbin. Wonsik let out numerous apologies, each one tossed aside by Hongbin’s chuckles, Wonsik lost in the warmth of Hongbin’s eyes and the endearing factor of his dimples.

Wonsik and Hongbin finally broke things off three months after they’d first met. Hongbin claimed he was too busy, and Wonsik had become more than a little paranoid with how Hongbin talked about his agent, Taekwoon. There was nothing simple about their breakup, a relationship ended in a screaming fight, Hongbin gathering up what little he kept at Wonsik’s apartment before slamming the door behind him. Wonsik liked to think he had gotten over him, was able to move on, but he really couldn’t. His emotions reflected too well in his music; Wonsik could only write lyrics about sorrow and anger, a longing for love lost, instrumentals repeatedly in minor keys.

And then, once he’d gotten out all of the sorrow, the anger, all of the negative emotions built up, Wonsik was left with nothing. He didn’t feel anything, he couldn’t write anything; any inspiration or willpower to create had left with those emotions. Wonsik had never considered himself to be an artist fueled by emotion yet, here he is. Mind a blank slate, studio equipment sat unused for over a month. He’d received more than a few warnings about how he needed to release more music soon, had received more than a few messages from fans asking why he’d disappeared off the face of the Earth.

Wonsik sighs, idly swirling his whiskey. He didn’t feel anything, and it killed him. The only time he could even  _ feel _ nowadays is when he drank, hard liquor clouding his thoughts enough to let in raw emotion. He knocks back the whiskey, placing a half-drunk glass on the table, eyes locking with the phone sat just beside the ashtray. Wonsik grabs his phone, screen lighting up, reflecting no recent notifications. He unlocks it, opening up his contacts, idly scrolling through it. His finger lands on Hongbin’s number, Wonsik’s hand freezing in place.

_ This is a bad idea _ , the tiny, sober part of his mind whispers to him, listing off numerous reasons why he shouldn’t call Hongbin. Rationality is always pushed aside when intoxicated though, so Wonsik easily pushes Hongbin’s name, placing the phone to his ear as he hears the number dial.

After five rings there’s a voice.

_ “Hello, this is Hongbin, I can’t be reached-” _

Wonsik rolls his eyes, letting the prerecorded message roll before parting his lips.

“Hello, Hongbin.” Oh god does he really sound that drunk? “It’s Wonsik. In case you deleted my number. I’ve been thinking a lot tonight and you just kind of popped into my head. I-I don’t miss you or anything obviously, but...” The thought trails off. “I’m doing  _ fine _ , by the way. Without you. I’m not seeing anyone but-”

There’s a beep before the line goes silent. Wonsik rolls his eyes, putting down his phone and seeing that the call had shut off. Did he really hit the voicemail limit that fast? He pauses, idly tapping on the side of his phone before dialling Hongbin’s number again. It goes to voicemail again, something Wonsik had actually expected this time.

“Hey. The uh, voicemail thing cut me off. I always forget the limit on that.” He gulps, willing away the slur in his words. “But, anyways. How are things with you? Did you end up with, um, that guy... Taekwoon? I know he’s your manager but I always suspected-” Wonsik shakes his head. “I actually don’t care. You can do whatever you want. Fuck whoever you want, I really don’t care.” Wonsik continues, “Who the fuck do you think you a-”

Beep.

Wonsik groans, setting down his phone and grabbing the glass of whiskey. He knocks back the rest of the wretched liquid, cringing at the taste. Wonsik eyes the bottle of whiskey, quickly shaking his head and grabbing it before heading to the kitchen. He places it on the counter near his sink, eyes idly wandering around the kitchen. There’s a ring, Wonsik’s head shooting up, the man going back to his chair. He grabs his phone, eyes widening at the  _ Hongbin _ that lights up the screen.

“Hello?” Wonsik says slowly.

“Wonsik?”

“Hey.” Wonsik replies, word minutely slurring.

“I didn’t realize you still had my number.”

“I, uh, me neither.”

“Your voicemails are um,” Hongbin starts. “Interesting.”

“Yeah sorry I,” Wonsik shakes his head slowly. “I don’t know why I called you. I’m doing okay without y-”

“Are you?” Hongbin cuts in. “Because it doesn’t sound like it.”

Wonsik’s mouth falls open. “Are you doing fine without me?”

“Yes.” The answer comes too quickly, making Wonsik quirk an eyebrow.

“Really?”

“Of course.” Hongbin replies. “I’ve been busy.”

“Oh, I’m sure Taekwoon is keeping you busy-”

“We’ve never fucked Wonsik.” Hongbin interrupts. “I have no idea where the fuck you got that idea from but we never fucked. Taekwoon has a boyfriend that he’s very happy with.”

“So you never once had feelings for him?”

“I mean, I thought he was cute, but no. I never had.”

“I’m not sure if I believe you.” Wonsik replies slowly.

Hongbin sighs, loud and excessively dramatic. “Shit like this is why we never worked out, Wonsik.”

“You never  _ actually _ assured me, Hongbin.” Wonsik says. “Anytime I asked about Taekwoon you’d shut up immediately and say nothing else about it. Of course I was going to be suspicious.”

Silence.

“We really weren’t supposed to be together, were we?” Hongbin mumbles.

Wonsik sighs. “I guess not.”

Hongbin chuckles. “Things had been so great but...”

“Life happens.” Wonsik says faintly. “How’s modelling?”

“It’s um, it’s work.” Hongbin replies. “Keeps me busy. How’s the music industry treating you?”

“Not well.” Wonsik says.

“Oh?”

Wonsik chuckles. “I, um, really shouldn’t be telling you this but I’ve been in a rut. A really bad one, actually. Haven’t written a single line in over a month.”

“Ah. I see.” A pause. “Is it me?”

“What?”

“Am I the reason you’re in a rut?” Hongbin says. “Us breaking up or, whatever. All of that shit.”

“Yes.” No point in beating around the bush, is there?

“Right.” Hongbin lets out a faint chuckle. “You know, Taekwoon keeps saying I look too stiff in pictures. The photographers never seem to notice, but every time we look at proofs Taekwoon says I look unnatural. Like I’m a robot rather than a human trying to convey some kind of mood or appearance.”

“Is that bad?”

“Yes.” Hongbin says. “Well, it’s bad if a photographer ever notices.”

“Ah.” Wonsik pauses. “That, that was me?”

“What?”

“I’m the reason you’re stiff.”

A pause. “Yes.”

“Ah.” Wonsik pauses. “Come over.”

“Wonsik, I really can’t-”

“Please.” Wonsik cuts in. “We don’t need to fuck or anything, I know you don’t like when people are drunk and have sex but, please. Come over.”

A long sigh. “Okay. Gimme like thirty minutes.”

Wonsik smiles. “Thank you, Hongbin.”

“Sure, whatever.” Hongbin says. “Just, we’re not together, okay? Just because I’m coming over doesn’t mean we’re going to get back together.”

“I know.” Wonsik says. “I just miss you.”

“I miss you too.” Hongbin sighs. “Anyways, be over soon. Bye.”

“Bye Hongbin.” Wonsik hangs up, placing his phone on the table and leaning back in his chair, inhaling a breath tinged with strong alcohol and stale cigarette smoke.

Wonsik chuckles. God, he must smell awful. This whole apartment must smell awful. The man gets up, minutely stumbling. He spends the next thirty minutes or so picking up trash around the apartment, the numerous cigarette butts that spill off his table and to the floor surrounding his chair. Empty alcohol bottles are shoved into bags near his trashcan, a promise to take them out to recycling later. Wonsik lets out a breath. The scent is something he can’t exactly do away with; air freshener and candles remain nonexistent in his apartment, something beyond an afterthought for Wonsik.

The knock at the door comes as a surprise for Wonsik, the man’s eyes quickly scanning the living room for any missed trash before he goes over to open the door.

Hongbin has dyed his hair black, a single silver streak shining faintly in the light above his apartment door. The man in question flashes a nervous smile, dimple showing.

“Um, hey.”

Wonsik flashes another smile. “Hey, um. You can come in.”

“Thanks.” Hongbin mumbles, walking in, nose scrunching briefly.

“Sorry.” Wonsik mumbles, closing the door behind Hongbin. “It’s been, um, rough. Like I said.”

“I can tell.” Hongbin replies. He goes to stand by Wonsik’s chair, fixating on Wonsik’s phone sat on the side table.

“I would ask how you’ve been but...”

“We’ve been through that already.” Hongbin says, nodding slowly.

Wonsik goes to stand by Hongbin. “I’m sorry.”

“What?”

“I’m sorry.” Wonsik’s words are clearer, less slurred than they had been on the phone. “We wouldn’t have had issues if it wasn’t for me.”

“Wait, Wonsik, no,” Hongbin says. “It was me too. I should’ve said more-”

“It’s fine.” Wonsik cuts in. “You don’t need to blame yourself at all.”

Hongbin frowns. He clenches and unclenches a fist, tentatively reaching out a hand to Wonsik’s cheek. Wonsik leans into Hongbin’s touch, eyes slowly closing as he lets out a small sigh.

“I forgive you.”

Wonsik’s eyes flutter open. “Uh-”

“For everything.” Hongbin says. “If you won’t let me take any fault, I’ll just say that.”

“Really?”

Hongbin nods. His thumb drags along Wonsik’s cheek. “I really have missed you.”

Wonsik hums, the faintest smile on his face as Hongbin’s hand moves down to his chin. The man’s eyes close on instinct as Hongbin’s face moves closer to his.

Hongbin’s lips against his bring Wonsik a pleasure he hasn’t felt in literal months, the man letting out a sigh, lips parting minutely. Hongbin does nothing to deepen the kiss, instead pulling away after about a minute, forehead resting against Wonsik’s.

“Your lips taste like a whiskey-covered ashtray.”

Wonsik chuckles. “I’m sorry?”

“It’s fine.” Hongbin says. “It reminds me of when we first met.”

“Neither of us had smoked that night.”

“Still.” Hongbin replies. His eyes close, Wonsik closing his as well before Hongbin’s lips return to his. Hongbin lifts his other hand up to Wonsik’s cheek, both hands grasping lightly at Wonsik’s face. His hands slide down as Wonsik’s lips part, Hongbin’s tongue moving into Wonsik’s mouth.

Hongbin pulls away a few seconds later. “Take me to bed.” His lips brush against Wonsik’s as he speaks.

Wonsik chuckles, pressing a chaste kiss to Hongbin’s lips before pulling away, lightly grabbing one of Hongbin’s hands as they head back to Wonsik’s bedroom.


End file.
